Unraveled

  pressed his legs across her upper body, pinning her head and neck down with the back of his knee, yanking her arm up and locking it to his chest as he put her into an arm bar.

  She tapped to get his attention, and he rolled forward. “Jesus, you’re a solid man.”

  “And I wasn’t even resting all of my weight on you.” His breath fanned over her cheek. “Wouldn’t take much to pin you down completely.”

  “I appreciate your restraint.”

  He muttered, “You have no idea the amount of restraint I have when it comes to you.”

  Holy fuckballs.

  Was Knox flirting with her? Ignoring the way her pulse leaped at that thought, she resumed her earlier position—one arm curled around his back, the other stretched underneath his chest. When she paused, trying to get her bearings, she became hyperaware of the clean cotton scent of Knox’s gi and the underlying salty scent of his skin. She felt the heat and hard muscles of his back against her chest.

  “Shiori?”

  “Sorry. Just thinking about the best way to explain this.”

  But you can’t explain what you suspect is happening between you and the sexy Shihan.

  Shaking off that thought, she said, “This time notice the movement in my hips. When I throw you over, I can lock both of my legs around you. If I keep a tight grip on your neck, I can get you into position for a rear naked choke.” Throwing all her weight into her hip, she flipped him, managing to press his arm to the mat beneath her as she maintained her choke hold on his neck.

  Knox tapped immediately.

  She released him and lay there for a second to catch her breath.

  “You okay?”

  “Grappling with you makes me feel like a flea taking on a dog.”

  He laughed. “Come on, flea. It’s my turn.”

  She rolled to her stomach and pushed up to her hands and knees.

  His body caged hers so completely she had a spark of panic and fought her instinct to arch into him and buck her hips.

  He murmured, “Ready?”

  The Mistress in her rallied with, “It’s best not to give a warning—”

  And she found herself on top of Knox’s body as he tried to choke the life out of her. She tapped his arm.

  “That makes so much more sense.” Knox patted her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go again.”

  “Once more. That’s it.” This time she wouldn’t make it easy on him even when the man made it hard to concentrate. His solid body covered hers. His forearm pressed against her breasts. His thick biceps blocked her ear when he wrapped his arm around her neck. Surrounded by hot, hard man, she felt no panic this time. Instead she focused on the shift in his muscles when he telegraphed his intent to move.

  Bingo.

  At the first half rotation, she curled in, letting his momentum carry them into a full rotation, with her landing on his chest.

  But Knox smoothly countered her move, and she ended up pinned beneath him with both of her arms trapped above her head.

  He grinned at her. “Gotcha.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “You always try to best me.”

  “Didn’t work this time—did it?”

  “No.” Knox’s face was inches above hers. And the way he looked at her . . . tempted her to buck him off even as she was frozen to the spot.

  “Knox. Get off me. You’re crushing me.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m bearing my weight on my arms and legs.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking.” He paused, letting his gaze roam over her face. “Looking.” His focus zoomed to her mouth. “Wondering.”

  “What?”

  “If you’ll knock me on my ass when I say you’re a delicate beauty, but beneath that pretty outer shell is a core of steel. It’s an intriguing combination to a man like me.”

  Her mouth had gone bone-dry, but she managed to croak out, “A man like you?”

  “A man who finds beauty in a woman secondary to her strength. You have both in equal measure. So you tempt me beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”

  Shiori didn’t—couldn’t—move when he released one of her hands so he could trace the edge of her face with his fingers.

  “So half of the time I want to rub this beautiful face into the mat.”

  “And the other half of the time?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

  “I want to kiss you.” His thumb outlined the shape of her mouth. “Will you let me?”

  That’s when she knew what he was—even if he didn’t yet—and that knowledge sent a secret thrill straight down to her toes. “Yes.”

  Knox pressed his lip to hers in an innocent kiss before he began to explore her mouth. Licking at the soft, moist flesh on the inside of her lips, nibbling with firm-lipped bites, following the edge of her teeth. Each tease of his tongue encouraged her to open wider and give him more.

  Then he kissed her in a full-out blitz of passion. Pouring hunger and heat into the kiss, using bold strokes of his tongue and soft sucks to drive her wild. Even their exchange of hot, panting breath was erotic and fed the furor of need building between them.

  And Shiori would’ve been content to kiss him all day, but she realized Knox’s arms were shaking from holding himself up and not crushing her beneath his weight.

  As much as she wanted to feel him bearing down on her, she pressed her palms to his cheeks, slowing the kiss down. She whispered, “Give your arms a break,” against his lips.

  “One more and I promise I’ll move.”

  This kiss was tinged with sweetness and a heady tenderness she hadn’t realized he was capable of, but he’d somehow known she’d needed.

  He lowered himself onto the floor next to her.

  How awkward would this be when they looked at each other again instead of staring at the ceiling tiles?

  Then Knox reached for her hand. Just that one simple point of contact relaxed her.

  After a bit she said, “What happens now?”

  Knox didn’t answer right away. “No idea. All of these thoughts keep spinning in my head, reasons why we should just chalk this up to one of those ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’ things.” After a moment he sighed. “Why don’t you tell me how you see this playing out?”

  “I don’t know.” She rolled onto her side and faced him. “This isn’t a situation where we can just be fuck buddies, because we have to work together.”

  “And you being what you are, a fuck-buddy arrangement wouldn’t work for you anyway.”

  She’d wondered if he’d bring up Mistress B. “No, it wouldn’t. What usually works for you?”

  “I’m good with one-offs, one-night stands, whatever they’re called. But when sleepovers start to become regular and exclusive, it veers into relationship territory.”

  “Is that what you’re looking for at Twisted?”

  “I don’t analyze the time I spend there.”

  “You should.”

  “Why?”

  She took a chance and said, “Because it’s not giving you what you need.”

  Knox propped himself up on an elbow, facing her.

  Shiori locked her gaze to his.

  “Don’t do that, She-Cat.”

  He’d already put a wall back up between them. “Don’t do what?”

  “Play the Mistress card. One night at the club and one kiss doesn’t make you an expert on me and what you think I need.”

  “You’d be surprised by what one can learn in a single night. Or with a single kiss.” She traced the wide angle of that stubborn jaw. “I dreamed about you last night. It was disturbing in that . . . the scenario was far out of the realm of possibilities for us. Or so I thought. But everything changed with one kiss.”

  “You talking in riddles again?”

  “Perhaps. But only because you are intent on skirting the topic at hand.”

  His eyebrows squished together. “The questi
on of whether we’ll be lovers?”

  “No.” She didn’t know if she could do this, because he wouldn’t believe her. She sat up and then stood to gather her things.

  “Come on, She-Cat. You’ve got me all kinds of wound up. Are you sorry I kissed you?”

  She zipped her gym bag and turned around. “I’m not sorry you kissed me, because it was as mind-boggling as I’d imagined. But the best thing to do now is to chalk it up to the ‘heat of the moment’ thing you mentioned earlier and go back to the way things were.”

  “So you alone get to decide that?”

  Shiori stared at him. Posture intimidating, eyes angry, teeth gritted. She wanted to tell him to kneel and she could soothe him, because she knew her touch could do that for him. But he wouldn’t see the truth of what he was. He’d argue and bluster. She hitched her strap over her shoulder. “This conversation has deteriorated, as it tends to between us. So it’s best if I go. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

  Knox stormed toward her, trapped her head in his hands, and kissed the breath right out of her. She didn’t manage to gather her wits until he ripped his mouth free from hers. He panted against her ear, “Don’t tell me you don’t want more of that.”

  “I do. But you can’t give it to me on my terms, Knox.” She took a breath and a really big chance. “I’m very good at that one-off, one-night stand thing too. I let men think they’ve taken the lead when in truth I’ve directed everything to my liking. I leave them with a smile on their faces, and that’s all they remember. But I know differently—I know what I need.”

  “A lapdog. A man you can crush under your heel,” he practically sneered.

  Oh, he had it so wrong, and that sliced through her. Even being around the lifestyle, he didn’t get it. “I’ll ignore that remark because you’re lashing out without thought.” Shiori got right in his face. “But be assured if you were my submissive talking to me that way? I’d lash out too. With my flogger on your ass.” She held her hand up when he opened his mouth. “Before you piss me off further . . . the mask I wear as part of my public persona as Mistress B isn’t just a prop; I am that Mistress inside, every day. I can’t ignore that part of me. It took me a long time to come to terms with who—and what—I am.”

  “Goddammit. There is something between us. There has been since the first day you walked into the dojo.”

  “I agree. I couldn’t put my finger on it, chalking it up to us both being headstrong and fighting for Ronin’s approval. But the missing piece started to take shape last night, and today it finally clicked into place.”

  “What missing piece?”

  Just say it straight out. You can deal with the blowback. “That you, Knox Lofgren, are a submissive.”

  He laughed. “You are a riot.”

  “I’m not kidding.” She waited. And watched for the denial.

  Anger blazed in his eyes.

  Ah. There it was.

  “Bullshit,” he spat out. “You just tossed out an allegation with nothing to back it up besides hope. And there’s no way you can prove it.”

  “There’s something between us because the Mistress in me calls to the submissive in you. You want proof of your unexplored tendency? Fine. You consider yourself a neutral party at Twisted. If you were Dominant, you’d identify yourself as such. No designation after what . . . five years in the club? That tells me you’re afraid to admit what you are.”

  He didn’t respond; he just maintained his belligerent posture.

  “I have to ask why you stayed until the very end of my scene with the sub. Because you wanted to see how I acted when the crowd left? If I was a warm Domme, or an uncaring one?”

  “Wrong. I was waiting to confront you.”

  Shiori wanted to toy with him. Scrape her fingernail down the V in his gi top to see if he shuddered in pleasure. “I asked about you after our little talk last night. Knox, the man who knows how to bring the pain. I find it interesting that you mainly participate in closed scenes.”

  “So?”

  “So that tells me that you do what the Dominant wants. Which is a submissive trait. And lastly?” She pinned him with her gaze. “You asked to kiss me, Knox. You knew there was an intimate dynamic between us that had you asking for permission first.”

  Those sharp cheekbones bloomed with color.

  She retreated. “Those are just my observations. You have every right to call bullshit on it. I imagine you’ll be cursing my name the second the door hits me in the ass. I understand how hard it is when self-discovery doesn’t come from yourself. But I want us to be able to work together. We’ll run into each other at the club too, so it’d be easier if we kept a civil tone to our relationship. Will that be a problem for you?”

  He shook his head, but she knew his thoughts were miles away.

  She wanted to push, make him talk to her, but she forced herself to walk away. She made it to the door before she heard him call her name.

  “Wait. I have a question for you.”

  Shiori turned to look at him. “All right.”

  “What were you looking for at the club last night?”

  “Not a man to crush under my heel. Not a lapdog. Not a slave. Not a whipping boy. I’m looking for a man strong enough to give up control to me when it comes to sex.”

  “Not a twenty-four-seven Domme-sub relationship?”

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t appeal to me. I want a man who knows that his complete submission to me means he’s under my care. His needs are more important than my own. There’s a connection that ensures the highest level of trust. From both sides. And with that comes the hottest sex you can imagine.”

  “And you can’t have that in a normal relationship?”

  “I had a so-called normal relationship when I was married. I didn’t deny who I was; I didn’t know who I was. Once I figured that out, I knew why I’d always been unfulfilled.”

  Knox said nothing.

  Shiori took that as her cue to leave. But she really wished he would’ve asked her to stay.

  * * *

  A submissive.

  She thought he was a fucking submissive.

  The woman had a screw loose. No doubt about it.

  Because of all the ridiculous accusations . . . There wasn’t a submissive thing about him.

  He snorted. He wasn’t a simpering girly man with mommy issues.

  She was reaching. She’d seen him in the club as a familiar face, a man who’d watched her scene with a sub, so she’d come to a wrong conclusion and projected that preference—her preference for what she wanted him to be—onto him.

  So what if he’d asked permission to kiss her. Wasn’t the first time he’d done it in his life. Wouldn’t be the last.

  Him. A submissive.

  Like he’d ever kneel at anyone’s feet on command.

  Like he’d let anyone put a collar on him and lead him around with a leash.

  Like he’d give up control in the bedroom.

  He was a fucking man. Men made the first move; men made sure the magic happened between the sheets and the woman was satisfied. God knew he’d never had any complaints.

  No. Mistress B was dead wrong on this one.

  Knox was a man’s man. Period.

  To prove it to himself, he beat the fuck out of the punching